Field Day
by catfoxy
Summary: This class of IMF recruits is in for a treat - their final training day will include a special group of agents, who have a few lessons to teach to those recruits before graduation. Guess who will do the teaching? ;
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimers:** _

_I don't make money with this; I only do this because I love writing. __These characters aren't mine; I just love them like they were. And I love feedback. :-)_

_**Summary:**_

_We all know agents have to be trained somewhere, to learn their job, right? So, let's assume that classes of recruits eventually graduate to become field agents. What if that last training day included some sort of tradition? For that purpose, the recruits will go through their final training day not only under the watchful eye of their instructor, who brought them this far, but they will also meet some people that can show them a thing or two about what it takes to be a field agent. _

_Three guesses as to who those special instructors will be… ;) _

**Field Day**

**a.k.a**

**The "Hell Week" Special**

"Welcome to your final training day, ladies and gentlemen!"

The group of recruits standing on the edge of the exercise field was nervous. They stood in a perfect formation of three rows, with 5 recruits per line. Their backs were straight, their eyes sharp.

"We are here at a place that holds great history for many of our agents that are out in the field today. All of them, and I do mean _all_ of them, have come through here. So you can rest assured that if you do a good job, you too can become the best out there."

The instructor was aware that every recruit's ears and eyes were on him. He had seen many classes come through here, but still he remembered every one of them. And he had seen recruits rise above what they thought was already their best, becoming even _better_ agents. He knew every aspect of their training by heart. But even after so many years, there was still something special about this day, this final day of training. Relishing the moment, he spared a look across the training field, alongside which they were standing today.

"This is where we decide whether you are ready. I know you all have been through weeks of training already; making you strong, making you fast and – most of all – giving you a taste of what your life as an agent will be like."

The instructor's gaze came to rest on the first row, looking each of them square in the eye.

"You have been taught to keep a clear head."

He paused a moment. It let everyone's attention rise even higher.

"Today we will teach you how to react in _real_ pressure situations."

The clipboard at his side tapped against his knee. One time. Two times. Then a halt. Everyone's eyes immediately refocused on his face.

"You already know how to protect yourself out in the field – now we will show you how to think as a _team_. If you think you already know, think again. Whatever you have learned so far – today, we will make or break you."

One of the recruits happened to glance in the direction of the exercise field, and saw a single man come walking across the empty field, casually headed in their direction but still some distance away. He appeared to be dressed in a pair of light blue jeans and a 'Springsteen' t-shirt, the outfit completed with a nice pair of shades. Some of the other recruits noticed him as well, but since their instructor was obviously ignoring him, they quickly did as well, returning their attention where it was needed, their eyes straight ahead.

"Today's exercises will include mat training, evasive driving and the disarming of a suspect. And at the end, a special presentation by one of our field agents. Consider it a graduation gift – if you make it through this final test."

The group looked in a state between excitement and tension. Glad to finally get to prove themselves, but also afraid that they might fail this final exercise and not get their field agent status.

Unnoticed to the entire cluster of recruits, another man, this one wearing a suit and tie to match his well-built stature, was quietly approaching them from behind. By the time the instructor finished his words, the man at their backs had made his way to a spot right behind the last row, unnoticed, and was nonchalantly taking a stand right behind one of the recruits.

As the instructor didn't continue his speech, and instead kept his eyes on the back row, some of the recruits standing there were beginning to wonder what they had done wrong. Then, one of the recruit's eyes widened as he suddenly noticed the new man standing less than five inches behind him – a man none of them had even noticed approach in the first place.

Seeing his recruits sufficiently rattled, the instructor gave the new man in the back a nod, which was returned. With a grin.

"Recruits," the whole assembly straightened as they were addressed by the instructor once more, "Please welcome your special instructor for today."

The four recruits standing in the middle of the second and first row were about to make a hole so the man from the back could step through to the front. But when they noticed that the man wasn't even trying to step forward, they were surprised once more as one recruit right out of their midst suddenly broke formation and simply stepped forward.

Moving out from the far end of the second row, this 'recruit' ignored all the surprised looks around her, taking her recruit cap off her head in the process. She then smiled self-confidently as more than one recruit's jaw went slack as they realized they had just found another perfect stranger standing in their midst – again, completely unbeknownst to them.

"Agent Carter," the instructor spoke in greeting, and handed his clipboard to the woman who now took her place right next to him, turning around to face the entire group of recruits.

"Good morning, class."

The whole class of recruits reacted as one by shouting:

"Good morning, Ma'am!"

The shout was accepted with a chuckle.

"Is it? I think we'll see about that."

And at that, a loud explosion suddenly ripped through the air, followed by several smaller charges going off all around them, making several of the recruits hit the deck instantly. Others attempted to merely duck and see how their instructor was reacting, to find out if they were under attack or what the hell was going on. When the confusion slowly cleared, one of the recruits from (formerly) third row was the first to see something through the smoke.

It was the man who had casually been walking across the exercise field just a minute ago. That very same exercise field that now had a decent-sized area just off its left hand side resemble a war zone. Like somebody had put a truckload full of fire- crackers underneath it and blown it sky-high, with feeling.

Several of the recruits were now carefully watching the man with the Springsteen shirt close the remaining few meters between, and on all of their faces was one obvious question:

One man couldn't have done all _that_… could he?

They got their answer when the jeans-clad man – juggling something in his hand that they couldn't fully see yet – stepped off the edge of the field he had just crossed and threw a small detonator at one of the recruits to catch.

The recruit caught it, totally surprised.

A second recruit was thrown something else. He, too, caught it. And – with eyes going wide in shock – he immediately threw the grenade that had landed in his hand as far away as he could.

"Don't worry, _that_ one wasn't live," the man quipped apologetically at the trembling recruit before slowly taking off his shades.

And when the man finally turned around to face the entire class, coming to a halt next Agent Carter, they all saw the immeasurably large smile on his face.

"Hey, Jane."

"Hello, Agent Hunt," Jane greeted him charmingly, "Glad you could make it."

"Didn't I tell you?" Ethan was surprised that she didn't think he'd be here today, "I couldn't say no to getting this opportunity just once," he finished with a grin.

"To graduate a class of new recruits?" Jane asked perplexed.

"No. To blow up their school yard," the dry comment came from the one man who was still standing at the back of the recruits, and who was now stepping forward as well.

"Oh." With an understanding frown Jane watched the man from the back coming forward, until he stopped right in front of Ethan, and began pulling out what appeared to be a fifty dollar bill from his pants pocket.

Handing it to Ethan, the man then patted the senior agent on the shoulder and quipped:

"Okay, you won, Ethan."

Ethan took the bill, and returned the shoulder pat.

"Thanks Brandt, it is always a pleasure doing betting business with you."

Then they all faced the scattered cluster of recruits, some still on the ground, others already up again but clearly still shaken.

The old instructor took this as his cue to address his class of recruits once more.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, you have just been shown what a _Team_ can do. And now…," the instructor glanced at the three agents standing with him, before facing his class once more, "let's see if we can make some agents out of you all. Start rrrrunnNING!"

Completely terrified and still shaken by what they had just seen, the entire class of recruits broke off as one, hurrying to get out onto the field to start running laps as their warm-up program.

The three agents and the instructor, who stayed behind at the edge of the field, eventually turned to each other.

"Shall we go and find out how many are gonna make it this time?" the instructor asked with a good-natured chuckle.

They all nodded, their faces eventually becoming serious once more, but never completely losing the touch of joy at the thought of what they were here for. They had been given the task of graduating the next line of field agents. And that's what they would do, to the best of their ability.

"Alright, this should be fun." Brandt summed it up perfectly as they all headed over to the first training station.

-o-

-o-

_To be continued…. (After all, that instructor promised mat training, evasive driving and disarming a suspect. I don't have to tell you who will lead what exercise, do I? LOL)_

_By the way, I didn't forget Benji. You'll see what I mean, soon. *g*_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

While the recruits were busy warming up, the team and the instructor spread out several mats on the field. Later, when these recruits would be out in the _real_ field as agents, there would be no mats, but for now – this was an exercise. And the team intended to teach them some things that the recruits would remember – things that might one day save their lives.

The first lesson was one that Jane had asked to teach. And, she thought smiling, she was gonna bring it across in a way that none of these recruits would ever forget again.

"Alright, class, assemble at the mats!" the instructor called out across the field once Jane gave him a sign. Ethan and Brandt were standing just off the side for now, clearly at ease but listening attentively to what Jane was going to say.

Once the class was assembled, and sat in a half circle around the mats, Jane began:

"Your instructor has taught you how to defend yourself. I assume you also know how to attack. Is that right?"

A recruit from second row, left side, raised his hand, speaking up as he got a nod from Jane:

"Yes, Ma'am, that is correct. We know what to do to defend ourselves against an attacker and to take a man down in as few moves as possible."

Off to the side of the circle, the corner of Ethan's mouth twitched. He tried, but eventually failed to completely suppress the slow smile that threatened to break the edge of his cheek. Next to him, Brandt had straightened just a little more, as well. Without even looking at each other, they both realized that Jane had been spot on with her idea. This would be fun.

"Okay, recruit. Then I assume you can show us how to take down a man?" Jane asked, benevolently motioning for the recruit to stand up and get on the mat. The recruit nodded respectfully, and got up, giving his usual sparring partner a glance so he would get up as well. That's when Jane stepped on the mat.

The look of surprise on the recruit's face was easy to decipher, even though he quickly tried to overcome it.

"Show me." Jane stood on the mat, giving the instructor a glance and getting a 'don't worry, he won't hurt himself' look in return. Okay then.

"Take me down."

In his defence, the recruit was a quick learner. He realized that he had just been given lesson number one. Just because your enemy was a woman, didn't mean you could refrain from attacking her. Now, for the practical part of the lesson.

Jane made a move forward, deliberately setting her foot a bit too far left, giving the recruit an opening so he would start his counter attack. And he did. Only he did it with a little too much confidence. Going for the obviously precarious footing of his opponent, he overbalanced the attack and suddenly found himself without a leg to stand on, when Jane unexpectedly straightened up and put him flat on his back onto the mat.

"That was lesson number two. If your opponent leaves you an angle of attack, don't assume it's the one you should take. Don't let your opponent make the decision where to attack – that's _your_ job."

Jane then leaned down to give the recruit a hand up. He took it, cautiously, half-expecting another lesson to follow right away.

But it didn't. Instead, Jane thanked him for his help in showing the class what they needed to watch out for. She also gave him a few more pointers for his own method of attack, like getting his left shoulder just a tad lower when he moved in, thus reducing the risk of getting taken off his feet.

Surprised by the detailed pointers he was getting from Agent Carter, the recruit actually smiled in the end, grateful for not having been ridiculed but instead actually having been _taught_ how to do better.

Soon, the recruits were all pairing off, training defence and offence manoeuvres, with Jane, Brandt and Ethan making the rounds, sometimes participating to bring a point across, sometimes talking a recruit through a move step by step, eventually helping everyone smoothen out their techniques.

After about two hours of training on the mats, the instructor took a glance at his watch and gestured with his wrist in Jane's direction. She nodded in turn and rose from the mat where she had just been showing one of the recruits how to better catch his landing. Seeing how Ethan and Brandt were also just putting the finishing touches on some of the moves they were giving away to the recruits, she called out to everyone:

"Alright, recruits. I think we got time for a lunch break. Be ready to assemble back at the test course for your driving training at noon sharp."

The recruits got onto their feet, pairing off to grab their mats as they went and filed off in formation towards the mess hall.

Watching Jane and the instructor accompany the class to the mess hall, Brandt opted to lag behind and moved to stand next to Ethan, who hadn't even made a move towards the building. In fact, Ethan was just standing there comfortably, looking across the field, a content smile on his face. When Brandt saw the mischievousness in Ethan's eyes sparkle yet a little brighter, he too couldn't help but smile.

"You're really mean, you know that?" Brandt chuckled half-seriously.

"Why? Because I had Jane put this little break _before_ my training exercise?" Ethan asked innocently. He looked off into the distance where the mess hall was. And then he turned to Brandt with a sly grin:

"Just because Jane told them they had time for a lunch break, doesn't mean they should actually go _eat_ lunch. I _never_ told them to go eat." Ethan spoke with conviction, clearly free of all guilt whatsoever.

Brandt just rolled his eyes, because he knew that Ethan was enjoying this – maybe a tad too much.

"Just go easy on them, will ya?" Brandt chortled, as he, too, headed off into the direction of the mess hall. Ethan, for his part, merely took one last glance at the departing recruits in the distance and then joyously walked off into the other direction, heading for the race course.

'This will be fun.'

-o-o-

-o-o-

_To be continued….._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

When the recruits began to file in and assemble at the edge of the test course, the first thing they saw was that there was already one car on the track. And it was going _fast_.

Some of the recruits tried to gauge how fast he was going, but with all the twists and sliding the driver was doing, it was nearly impossible to tell. Whoever was in that car, he sure knew what he was doing.

The car eventually seemed to slow and come back into the pit area of the test course. And as the driver got out, more than one recruit paled.

'Oh shit.'

Ethan Hunt was just putting his helmet back into the car after having taken it off in one slick move. And, as impossible as it seemed, the grin on his face was even wider than they had seen it before.

Some recruits in the back row were gulping audibly. Some closed their eyes for a moment, sending a quick prayer to the Lord, while others wondered if they were actually sleeping, and could wake up by closing their eyes from this bad dream. None of it worked.

"Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen," Ethan greeted the recruits, "I trust you had a nice lunch break?" he asked into the round, adding a grin in Brandt's direction in particular.

One of the recruits on the left side of Ethan suddenly went even paler. He had just figured out what the combination of their well-eaten lunch and this man's idea of "evasive driving" might result in. It didn't take long for the other recruits to catch up to the same realization.

Ethan continued to smile.

"I see that some of you are probably wondering what we'll be doing on this track today."

A careful nod here, a slow shake of head there. Yep, they were definitely paying attention now.

"I tell you what. I will give you the benefit of a doubt that you all know how to drive a car. Fast. Fluidly," he paused before letting them off the hook, "when you are not full to your stomach after a healthy lunch."

Several of the recruits felt their hopes rise that this teacher might let them off easy after all.

"The bad news, however, is that you can't always expect the bad guys out there to wait for you to process all that lunch you just had, and have them take a few laps around the block while you get a hold of your stomach."

The recruits hopes died a miserable death.

"So, we are here today," Ethan went on, "because I want you to learn one thing."

He sat down on the hood of the car, looking around at all the faces. And he knew he had their full attention now.

"It's pretty simple actually. As an agent, you will never know _when_ you will have to be ready to do your job. It can be in the middle of the night, after you just had the greatest party of your life or the worst cocktail in history. Or, as unfortunate as it is, after you just had the best steak of your entire training time." Ethan grabbed his driving gloves, and pointed them at the track behind him, "It doesn't matter what situation you are in. You make it a point to _always_ think ahead. Don't put your life on hold, but _think_ about what you are doing, because it might have consequences that will affect you and your team."

The recruits instructor, who was standing at the back of the class together with Jane and Brandt, began to see some of the recruits slowly sit up straighter at these words, as they apparently realized that this rather unconventional agent before them apparently wasn't as crazy as they thought at first. That he was simply getting a point across in the most convincing way possible – a way that they _would_ remember. Every time they ate a sandwich. Or drank a coke. Every minute of the day. The way it should be for an agent who wanted to stay alive. And as much as their stomachs were now paying the price for it, they all gradually realized that they had just been treated to the most effective memory trick of their entire training as agents.

That only left the actual case in point.

"So," Ethan slapped the gloves against his knee as he hopped off the hood of his car, "that said, who is up for a little drive around the track?" and he broke out the smile again; now that he was sure they all had sufficiently understood what he had wanted them to understand.

A recruit from the front left row hesitantly raised his hand. Apparently, he had not had as much to eat as the rest of them. Or maybe he had a stronger stomach. Either way, Ethan was fine with it.

He then spotted two others who were looking pretty healthy around the gills. He asked them to stand up as well.

"Alright, here is what we'll do. First I want to see what you can do with the car under pressure. Then we'll find out how fast you can go."

He motioned for the one recruit to get in on the passenger side of his car, while the other two recruits were to commandeer the second car.

"Okay. Listen up," Ethan called out from behind the wheel of his car, once they were all settled in with their helmets on, "I will give you a little head start, then I'll come after you, trying to pull you over or off the track. The round is finished as soon as either of the cars leaves the track. Understood?"

He got a nod from the two in the car in front of him. Then he strapped in, and told the recruit in the passenger seat to do the same. The car in front took off, leaving a small cloud of dust at the pit.

And then they were off, too.

It was amazing to watch. One of the recruits, whose family came from a ranching background, was eerily reminded of a well-trained mustang herding a rebellious cow back onto the right track – with moves so intuitive and fast that it seemed like he was reacting to changes in direction almost _before_ they actually happened.

The chased car was doing well for a little while, using its head-start to take the corners just a little wider, thus evading the car in the back at first. But as soon as the second car ate up the gap in between the two cars, it was like watching a billiard player position a ball at just the right angle spot-on before the corner hole.

Within seconds of catching up, the second car paced itself to exactly match the speed of the first, riding it bumper to bumper for a moment before using a curve in the road to slowly, but inevitably turn the back of the first car around, efficiently sliding it off the track only a short distance from the pit. As per the prearranged rules, both cars then came to a halt.

"That was good, really good!" Ethan called out to the driver of the first car as he pulled even with them. He then patted the side of his car as an invite, "Now it's your turn. Catch me, and you get a free lunch at any restaurant you want, _any_ place on earth."

That was a challenge the two recruits in the first car felt too good to pass up, no matter how much they weren't in the mood for food right at this second. So the race was on. But after only a few curves it became clear that they wouldn't be getting that meal ticket today. Or any day soon. They simply couldn't force Ethan off the road. Because you couldn't force off the road what you couldn't even catch up to.

The two recruits in the first car realized they had just been taught another lesson. Just because you were ready to hold your own against a better driver for a while, didn't mean you should think yourself capable of getting in head over heals in a high-speed chase that might result in getting yourself killed out in the field.

Better to take your victories and continue to improve your skills – until then, you went with what your strengths were and kept learning.

There endeth that lesson.

Only Jane had one more very memorable moment, when – as everyone filed off the race track and walked back over to the field – she accidentally overheard one of the recruits ask another in a disbelieving voice:

"Holy shit, at what school did he learn to DRIVE like that?"

As she watched these two impressed recruits continue their way back to the field, she was _almost_ tempted to tell them, that Agent Ethan Hunt had never seen a driving school from the inside…

-o-o-

-o-o-

_To be continued….._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The recruits were now paying attention to practically everything the three agents did. When Jane got herself some coffee, she was observed getting two pieces of sugar, one tip of powdered milk and three stirs of the mix with a plastic spoon. Only the brand of coffee remained a mystery. They had also observed very carefully, not asking about it but closely watching, how Ethan happened to keep twirling a small item in his hand when he returned to them from the track.

Some of the recruits were able to make out that it appeared to be something metal, tiny and obviously pretty light – but that was all they had been able to discern so far. Still, they kept a close eye on it, to make sure that they would be ready if, or more likely _when_ that piece of information might become relevant. And by now they all had the feeling that anything these three agents did could be relevant. _Anything_ at all.

When Brandt - who had excused himself with the instructor to go pick up a wooden table to set up on the field - eventually returned to them, the recruits immediately stood even straighter. They didn't know yet what they were in for now, but they hoped they were ready.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Brandt greeted the recruits as he stepped up to the table, around which the class had formed two straight lines on his left and his right, both sides facing him. Watching him closely. While also keeping an eye out for anything that might happen anywhere else around them.

Most of the eyes, however, quickly found their full attention captured by the small briefcase Brandt had just put on the table before him. Ethan and Jane were standing at the side of the table, watching as well, with Jane holding the instructor's clipboard and Ethan… well, Ethan, was still twirling something in his hand.

"Listen up everybody," Brandt addressed the recruits, "we are now coming to the fun part."

He smiled at the line of recruits on his left, before turning to his right.

"I'm sure you all know that disarming a suspect might one day be the key to saving your life, or that of your team-mates."

There were nods all around.

"And I'm also pretty sure that you have been taught a thing or two about how to get a hold of an opponent's gun. One of these beauties, perhaps."

He pulled a gun from the briefcase in front of him. Everyone's attention immediately focused on it, checking to see if it was loaded, the safety on or off, the type of gun and what model. Which almost made them miss how Ethan suddenly stepped forward from behind Brandt, and in one lightening fast move made a grab for Brandt's gun, at the same time flicking Brandt's wrist to turn the agent's gun hand down and away, thus taking secure possession of Brandt's gun in about two seconds – flat.

More than one recruit was still trying to blink at what they had just seen by the time the two agents were already motionless again.

"This is what is known as taking a gun away from someone," Brandt eventually spoke up again, looking at several recruits on his right, while Ethan, for his part, casually began to take about five steps back from him. While taking those steps, the recruits could see Ethan handling the gun – he was taking it apart piece by piece without even looking at what his hands were doing. By the time Ethan came to a halt at the other side of the table, the gun was neatly dismantled and he dropped the pieces on the table.

Brandt meanwhile continued:

"You all know what a gun looks like, in all stages of dismantlement. I know that. You know that. What you will have to learn, however, is to actually visualize these stages in your sub-consciousness, at any time, and be ready to make use of them. If your gun is dismantled…," at that Brandt stepped over to the table, picking up pieces of the gun there without even looking, " you will _still_ have to use it, and no bad guy will wait for you to put it back together."

As he spoke, his hands were methodically putting together the gun in smooth, un-hastened motions, but never once taking his eyes off the recruits he was facing. Moments later, he was holding up a fully assembled gun in his right hand. And a piece of chalk in his left.

Before anyone could react, Brandt threw the chalk up into the air – and everyone who expected him to shoot it was taken by complete surprise when a shot rang out from a completely different direction. As everyone's eyes turned as one, they saw that Ethan had taken the shot. From a gun he had obviously been hiding God knows where.

"And you should always be aware of where your gun is…," Brandt called out, before holding up his gun, walking over to the recruits on his left. "And I mean _every_ piece of it." As he said that, he pulled the slide of his gun open. To their surprise, the recruits could now see that there was actually no firing pin in his gun. Brandt couldn't have fired even had he wanted to. Which he obviously didn't.

And they hadn't known.

Brandt eventually lowered his gun, once he was sure that everyone had seen it was dysfunctional. Switching the non-ready gun from his right hand to his left, Brandt then slowly walked over to where Ethan was patiently waiting.

"And if you don't have a gun that is usable," Brandt began," then get one that is."

And with that, he threw his non-functional gun up into the air, several eyes following it, including Ethan's – although there was a definite twinkle in Ethan's eyes as he allowed his gaze to rise like everyone else's – and before any of the on-lookers knew what was happening, Brandt was reaching for Ethan's shoulder, twisting the arm holding Ethan's functioning gun. In a controlled, yet still probably a bit painful move for Ethan, Brandt then followed through by twisting Ethan's upper body even further, making him let go off the gun in his hand and at the same time bringing Ethan around so that he was overbalancing on his left – a moment which Brandt used to then kick out Ethan's other leg, effectively taking him down in one move. Before anyone could even react, Ethan was face down on the ground, with a small cloud of dust wavering up as he hit.

Brandt then proceeded by taking some cuffs from his belt, efficiently securing Ethan's wrists behind his back, before helpfully pulling Ethan to his feet, so he could come to stand next to him.

"Sorry, man." Brandt said with an apologetic smirk, which Ethan casually accepted while Brandt patted a bit of the dust off Ethan's shirt. The recruits couldn't believe what they had just seen. They were also wondering why Ethan was clearly holding on to that light smirk on his face, like he was not only perfectly fine with what had just happened – but like he also seemed to think he was not done in yet.

Some recruits on the left were not sure what that meant, but they decided to keep an even closer eye on Ethan just in case. As Brandt took the only functional gun back to the table, leaving the other discarded gun sans firing pin on the ground near Ethan's feet, he began to look at several of the recruits on his right. They looked like they had a question.

"Anybody have something on their mind?" Brandt addressed the one recruit who appeared to be the one with the largest question mark on his face. The recruit respectfully straightened up and voiced his question:

"Yes, Sir, I was wondering how long it took you to be able to do that, Sir."

Brandt slowly smiled, before turning to Ethan and motioning for him to come forward. Ethan appeared to stumble a bit at the first step due to his hands being restrained behind his back, but quickly caught himself from actually hitting the ground. He then straightened and walked over to the right line of recruits. As he walked, only the recruits on the left side of the table had a clear view of Ethan's hands behind his back – which were now surprisingly holding the useless gun from the ground!

Thinking that they were about to see another show and tell, this time with a first-row view of how it was actually done - the line of recruits on the left kept their mouths shut and their eyes sharp, watching what would happen next. While Brandt and Ethan were talking to the recruit who had asked the question, explaining to him how they had gone about what they had done, the recruits on the left saw Ethan's hand moving gently behind his back, appearing to get a better grip on the gun.

Some recruits on the left exchanged impressed glances, as they realized what Ethan was doing. Any second now, the other agent, Brandt, would probably point out another lesson, like 'don't ever think a suspect isn't armed' or some other basic rule like that.

But just as agent Brandt was done answering the one recruit's question, instead of him then addressing the whole class again, Brandt seemed to just… stop… and stand there for a moment, his head lowering as if in thought.

A confused frown appeared on some of the foreheads of the recruits on the left side of the table. Why wasn't the man proceeding to show them that the other agent was now in possession of the discarded gun? He could simply take it out of Ethan's cuffed hands and hold it up like a magic trick – to show them what even a cuffed prisoner could do if left unwatched. But none of that happened.

What did happen was that, as if still in deep thought, Brandt slowly pulled another piece of chalk from his pants pocket. And, without turning away from the recruits he was facing on the right side of the table, he threw the tiny piece of chalk over his shoulder, where it landed on the ground no two feet away from the row of recruits on the left. The second the chalk hit the ground, it was vaporized by a bullet.

A bullet that had come from the one man who they had previously been closely watching – and who despite their close observation had done much more than just getting a hold of a gun. The gun Ethan was facing them with had been perfectly reassembled – with what they now realized had to have been an extra firing pin.

The tiny metal part the agent had kept twirling between his fingers earlier.

He had also slipped the cuffs. Without them noticing he had not only become armed, but _free_ and armed. Which, as all the recruits knew, equalled _dangerous_. Or, if that had happened to them out in the field, dead.

"Never just _assume_ you have a situation under control…because you don't." Brandt slowly addressed all of them, once he saw that the lesson had been driven home.

Both sides, but particularly the one row of recruits that Ethan's gun was still pointed at, swallowed hard at Brandt's words. With a sudden sense of understanding unlike any they had ever experienced before, they all realized they had just been shown exactly how much more they still had to learn – and they also realized that the only reason none of their class had lost their lives in order to understand this important lesson, was because these agents obviously _wanted_ them to learn.

"Alright, recruits. Now that you have hopefully understood that concept," Brandt directed a meaningful glance at the recruits on his left, before giving Ethan a subtle sign to lower his gun, "I want you all to give me one more shot. And I mean that literally."

He then pointed at a row of targets - tin cans, plastic bottles, and even some tennis balls - which Jane had meanwhile scattered across the field. To the recruits surprise, the targets appeared to be relatively close-by. At least much closer than they had expected them to be for their final test.

While Ethan fell back into line next to the instructor and Jane, taking a seat on the table right next to her clipboard, Brandt began to explain the last exercise:

"I want you to _shoot_. I don't care at what. Pick one of the targets out there, whichever one you like. But what I want you to do, and what will decide whether you get my okay, is that I want you to shot so accurately that you not only hit your target, but that you actually _know_ where your bullet went. Because I want you to _find_ it."

He saw the incredulous expression on some of the recruits faces. And he chuckled as he saw them realize that his exercise technique was obviously not out of any of the handbooks they had ever read. So when he spoke up again, he did so with a voice that left no doubt he really meant what he said:

"You bring me your target, _and_ that bullet – I'll make you an agent. You have yourself a deal, ladies and gentlemen."

And at that cue, the recruits were approached one after another by Ethan and the instructor, who were handing out guns and one bullet per recruit.

At first, most of the recruits kept throwing inquiring glances at each other, while waiting for the rest of them to be fitted with guns. But once they were all armed – well, with _one_ bullet anyway – they saw that Brandt was pointing an inviting arm in the direction of the field before them.

And as they noticed the 'go for it, he really means it' looks given to them by Jane, Ethan and even their own instructor, the recruits eventually believed what their eyes were seeing. This was it. This would be their final test.

As one, the class began to turn and face the field head-on. One after another they fired their guns, a short pause between every shot, but the firing itself was smooth and like a melody of accuracy.

When they all had fired their one shot each, Brandt nodded and they all lowered their guns. With an encouraging smile, Brandt then called out, loudly and for all to hear:

"Allright, let's go hunting!"

And as the recruits took off into the field, Brandt couldn't help but glance to his right, where Ethan was fixing him with a half-hurt look:

"Did you have to say _hunt_ing?"

Seeing Ethan's pained expression, Brandt just smiled brightly and, with a well-meant farewell-pat on Ethan's shoulder, he then walked over to Jane, to wait with her for when the recruits would come back – with or without their bullets.

-o-o-

-o-o-

_To be continued….._

_Note: Like I said at the end of Chapter 1, I didn't forget Benji – you'll see in the final chapter. ; )_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A happy cluster of recruits made their way off the field and back into formation before their instructor and the three agents. They had all found their bullets, proudly showing the damaged projectiles to Jane, who marked each successful recruit's name on her clipboard with a smiley.

It just seemed to fit these smiling recruits standing around her. And she glared at anyone – Brandt in particular – who even looked like he wanted to make a comment on her note-taking technique.

'They have made it. Let them be happy today,' she thought.

"Congratulations, ladies and gentlemen," their instructor eventually called out, having granted them all their moment of joy and but now making himself heard again, facing his graduation class once more, albeit with a satisfied smile.

The three agents off his side seemed to be content as well, silently taking in the joy of their new fellow agents.

As the class quieted down eventually, the old instructor spoke up again:

"Now, as I told you in the beginning: I brought you out here so you could learn a few things that aren't in any of those books you have read in that building back there," he paused, before continuing, "I hope you will remember what you learned here today."

He looked each of his recruits right in the eye.

"You might also remember that I told you in the beginning of todays exercise that there would a special gift for those of you who graduated. As it happens, that includes all of you."

There was definite pride in his voice as he said these words.

He then looked at Ethan, who in turn stepped forward to address the class.

"Class A7 of 2012," Ethan said, his voice clearly audible on the field, "You have learned a lot during your training, both in the past weeks and hopefully also today through our little presentation. We wanted to show you what a team can do. And what _you_ can do as a team. Please remember, that what you have learned might one day make the difference for your future as an agent out in the field."

He shortly turned his head to his right, to look at Jane with a questioning glance, and particularly at the cell phone in her hands, until she finally looked up from it with an encouraging grin and a thumbs-up sign.

Ethan took that as his cue.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he addressed the entire class before him with pride, "You have today graduated as field agents. Normally, that would mean you would now have to wait for headquarters to update your file, until your status is activated. And that," he chuckled, "well, that usually takes its time."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Ethan noticed Brandt break into a snort, because apparently, the former chief analyst was one of the few people on earth who knew _exactly_ how often Ethan's own status had already been changed from anywhere between 'non-active' to 'active, 'asset' or even 'disavowed'.

Ethan ignored Brandt's cheeky grin, and continued to address the recruits:

"That means they'll usually keep you out of the field for a little while longer, before you can actually put your new skills to use."

A few groans could be heard from the recruits.

And a slow smile found its way onto Ethan's lips at hearing their reaction.

"Which is why my team and I have decided to give you a little graduation gift, since you were so brave as to have us be your teachers today." Ethan paused again, until he felt every eye of the class on him.

"When you go back to your quarters in a moment, and check in with the computer department, you may find that your graduation documents have already been processed, updated and filed in the computer system. The paper-pushers upstairs probably won't know how that has happened, but that's their problem, not yours. Consider it a professional gift from my team to yours, courtesy of a technologically-adept member of my team who unfortunately couldn't personally be here today."

Again, Brandt couldn't suppress a chuckle, but this time he was quickly silenced as Jane kicked her elbow into his side at just the right angle – and with just enough force to make him remember he had promised Benji _not_ to laugh. It really wasn't Benji's fault that he had the runs from having eaten a bad tuna sandwich – albeit one he had stolen from Brandt's fridge – and he really couldn't be with them today on this particular field day.

Feeling a bit responsible for Benji's constitution after all, Brandt quickly turned his attention back to Ethan, just in time to hear him say:

"Attention all Agents... ," and the entire class stood ramrod straight, as Ethan finished with a smile, "…welcome to the IMF."

- - o - -

Several hours later, at a bar near the training centre, three agents were sitting over a table, each of them having at least one empty and another full bottle of beer, or in Jane's case two cocktail glasses, standing before them.

"I can't believe you actually tried to pull that trick on them."

That was Brandt. He was holding his head on his hands, looking at Jane next to him with an angled stare.

"What, they passed, didn't they?" Jane replied innocently.

"Yeah, sure, they did. But that's beside the point. Come on, Ethan, help me out here, you are the team leader after all, right?" Brandt demanded.

Ethan, for his part, took another drink from his beer. Then he shook his head.

"Nope, not gonna do that."

"No?" Brandt asked bewildered.

"No." Ethan replied.

"Thank you." Jane turned to face Ethan with a charming smile. Brandt in turn, just shook his head.

"I mean, how can you just stick half a case of ammo in your pocket and be ready to procure a bullet for any of those poor bastards if they hadn't actually found their own bullet again? Isn't that against the rules or something?" Brandt whined.

Jane gave him a long, pointed look before turning to Ethan once more. After a few moments, Ethan gave up, getting into the discussion after all.

"Okay, let's see…," he sighed, "As far as I know, and as a _team leader_, I happen to know these regulations pretty well, mind you, there is no rule that actually says you have to _find_ your bullet again after you fired it, in order to graduate."

"But I really _liked_ that idea!" Brandt retorted.

"I'm sure." Jane snorted.

"They would have all graduated anyway, since they all did hit their targets." Ethan placated Brandt with a chuckle, "The fact that they passed your test as well… let's just say that it shows we got a pretty good bunch of new agents into the IMF, right?" Ethan tried to be the voice of reason, but most of all to placate Brandt.

"And just what did Benji do to get those files into the – _highly_ _secure_, mind you – data server of the IMF?" Brandt played his last trump card.

Ethan grimaced.

"Well, he may have gotten an order from me to…uh…. hack it."

"See? That's what I thought," Brandt shot back victoriously, happy that his theory had proven correct.

"Boys, … boys, easy," Jane chuckled at seeing Ethan squirm.

"How about this: If you all forget that it was my idea to volunteer us for this training field day, I'll forget that I never actually _gave_ _you_ permission to blow up that exercise field," she looked pointedly at Ethan. Ethan, in turn, frantically waved at her to not have said that, because he could already see Brandt's ears go up at the possibility that their little bet might be void after all. But before either of them could react, Jane continued:

"And _you_," she now turned to Brandt, "will never have to tell Ethan where you got that gun you brought in the briefcase. How about that, Agent Brandt?" Jane concluded.

She watched as Brandt's growing, shark-like smile instantly froze on his lips. Now it was Ethan whose curiosity was peaked.

"Do we have a deal, gentlemen?" Jane asked both of her colleagues in a sweet voice, while finishing her own drink and looking pointedly at both of their equally near-empty bottles.

"Kay"

"Yep."

"Thank you," Jane smiled.

And as the bartender eventually came around once more to pick up the empty bottles and glasses from the three customers who had just gone out the door in a cloud of laughter, leaving a nice tip on the table, he noticed that something seemed to jingle inside two of the bottles – as well as inside the one cocktail glass that had been left on the table.

He couldn't see what was in the bottles, but assuming that it was the same thing he could now see lying at the bottom of the empty cocktail glass, he just shook his head and mumbled:

"Looks like another class made it."

And with that he let the flat, discarded projectile drop from the glass into his hand, doing the same with the similar two shells from the other two bottles, before going back to his business of running "The Field Bar & Grill", happily whistling as he wiped off the tables in preparation for many more guests to come.

The End

-o- -o-

-o—o-

_P.S.: I. love. Feedback._


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